


A (hypothetical) tiny version of your favourite person

by paleredheadinascifi



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Again this might seem angsty but it's super not, Babies, Communication, Discussing Kids, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Kid Fic, M/M, Talking About The Future, supportive husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23293954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paleredheadinascifi/pseuds/paleredheadinascifi
Summary: “Right. But this hypothetical child wouldn’t have to like, live with us. So it’s not really the same as us having kids,” David says, for some reason. There’s something about it that’s nagging at him, and he isn’t sure what it is or why it’s happening.Patrick frowns at him in confusion for just a second, his hand tightening where it sits on his thigh. “Well, no, I guess not. But it would still be my biological child and, like you said, we both know I couldn’t just be some “uncle” to my own kid.”---Or, Rachel wants a baby, and asks Patrick if he'd consider being the sperm donor. A discussion ensues.(Now with a bonus chapter 2!)
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 46
Kudos: 285





	1. Chapter 1

David and Patrick are settled into bed for the night, the duvet tucked around their hips as the bedside lamp emits a low gold light across the room. Positioned at the perfect angle to maximise the glow of the lamp, David is engrossed in his novel, the sound of a flicking page flutters through the room every now and then. Beside him, Patrick taps lightly on the dimmed screen of his phone, circling through social media apps.

“So I got an interesting call on the way back from Mrs Divine’s farm today,” Patrick says, breaking the comfortable silence of the room.

It Patrick didn’t know better, he might think that David hadn’t heard him. For a few long moments, he does nothing to acknowledge that Patrick has said anything at all, his nose still stuck in the book in front of him. Patrick can’t help but smile at the sight of it – his husband of three years, tucked into bed, reading glasses perched on his face, diligently reading to the end of the page so as not to miss a single word. Like clockwork, Patrick tracks it as David’s eyes reach the end of the page moments before he looks up to meet his amused expression.

“Hmm?” David hums, straightening the glasses against his nose.

“It was Rachel,” Patrick continues, knowing David had heard his prelude.

At that, David lowers his book down to lay open, flat on his lap, turning his full attention to his husband beside him.

“Oh, how is she? Is she still with uh, what’s her name? Jaaaarrice?” He tries.

Patrick smiles. It’s his my-husband-is-ridiculous-and-I-love-him-so-much smile.

“Candace? Yes. David, you’ve met Candace at least five times,” he grins. Candace had been Rachel’s plus one at their wedding. David could almost recite the entire guest list in alphabetical order, but was apparently incapable of remembering Rachel’s girlfriend’s name.

“It’s a hard name to remember!” David defends, but there’s a playful glint in his eye.

“And Jarice would be easier?” Patrick teases.

“Okay, we’re getting side-tracked. What was the interesting call from your ex-fiancé about?”

Patrick rolls his eyes at David’s teasing smirk, both of them knowing full-well that the whole “secret ex-fiancé” drama of their relationship was far, far behind them. David actually _likes_ Rachel these days; they get along like a house on fire. On the few occasions over the years they’ve met up for dinner or drinks, they’ve spent the night taking turns teasing Patrick or bonding over how hard it is to jostle him awake when his snoring gets too loud.

“They want to have a baby. Rachel and Candace, they’re trying to have a baby,” Patrick explains quietly, not quite stopping the small smile at the thought of Rachel finally getting to be the mum she’d always dreamt of being. 

“Oh, good for them,” David nods, eyeing Patrick carefully. “And, um, how do you feel about that?”

“She asked me if I’d consider being their sperm donor,” Patrick says, as casual as anything. If David hadn’t really been listening, he could have just as easily of thought he’d just told him what he had for lunch that day.

“ _Oh_.”

“Yeah,” Patrick nods.

“Um, okay. That is... that’s a lot.”

“She said she’d always imagined her babies with my curly hair and ‘unfairly expressive eyes’,” Patrick continues, tone still far too casual for David’s liking.

“I see.”

“She said there’s no pressure to say yes, and lots of room within a yes to be as involved or not involved as we’d want,” Patrick goes on.

David scoffs. “As if you could ever be anything but the world’s greatest dad.” Surely a woman who spent the better half of her life with Patrick should know _that_.

Patrick smiles at that, and reaches his hand over to sit comfortably on David’s thigh, thumb soothing back and forth. “She told me to take some time to think about it and to talk it over with you.”

“Right. Right. Sure. And um, so that’s what we’re doing I guess,” David swallows.

“Mmhm,” Patrick nods. “I did tell her, that as much as I love them both, and as flattered as I am, I don’t think it would be the right decision for us. But I promised her I’d think about it.”

David suddenly feels like he can breathe again, a breath he didn’t even realise he had been holding. “You…um. You… so you said no, then?”

Patrick leans over and presses a small, smiling kiss to David’s cheek, as if he’s enjoying inflicting this panic upon his unsuspecting husband on an otherwise boring Tuesday night.

“Pretty much. We don’t want kids, so it seemed fairly straight forward. But I just wanted to let you know that it had come up. Let you have your own opinion.”

“Right. But this _hypothetical_ child wouldn’t have to like, live with us. So it’s not really the same as _us_ having kids,” David says, for some reason. There’s something about it that’s nagging at him, and he isn’t sure what it is or why it’s happening.

Patrick frowns at him in confusion for just a second, his hand tightening where it sits on his thigh. “Well, no, I guess not. But it would still be my biological child and, like you said, we both know I couldn’t just be some “uncle” to my own kid.”

“No. No, I know that,” David agrees, shaking his head. Shaking off this weird, nagging feeling. “So, you’re right. It’s probably not the right decision for us.”

He can still feel Patrick’s eyes on him, so he turns to take in whatever confused look is plastered on his husband’s face. Instead he finds the patent pending Patrick Brewer Heart Eyes™ staring back at him in full force, as Patrick leans in to plant a kiss on his mouth.

“Yeah, I was gonna call her back in the morning just to confirm. Maybe offer our babysitting services as a consolation prize,” Patrick smiles as he pulls away.

“She literally lives 3 hours away,” David frowns.

“Exactly,” Patrick grins, setting his sight on David’s lips once again.

* * *

Patrick wakes and can instantly tell something is off. He reaches out for David beside him, only to find the other half of the bed empty and cold. A quick glance at the clock on the bedside table tells him it’s 3:05am, almost a full six hours before David would ever even _think_ about waking up for the day.

Flicking on the bedside lamp, Patrick steps into his slippers and grabs his robe, noticing that his husband’s is missing from its hook. He ventures out into the hallways and notices a light has been turned on downstairs. He pads down the stairs, listening out for any other signs of potential concern – he’s _pretty_ confident that David would never have gone to investigate a scary sound or anything dangerous without him – hearing nothing but the familiar faint flick of pages.

As he reaches the bottom of the stairs he sees David, adorned in his robe and slippers, sitting cross legged on the couch, surrounded by a handful of open scrapbooks.

“David? Hey, what’re you - - what’re you doing?” he asks quietly, his voice still sounding too loud in the early morning silence.

David jumps at Patrick’s presence, shutting the scrapbook before him like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“ _Jesus_ , Patrick. Unless you are interested in becoming a young widow, I wouldn’t suggest actively trying to give me a heart attack,” David scolds, already moving the books on the couch to make room for Patrick beside him.

Patrick curls up next to David, pressing a kiss to his forehead in apology. “Sorry, I just got worried when I woke up and you weren’t there. Everything okay?”

Patrick watches as David bites his lip and diverts his gaze from his concerned eye.

“I just…” David starts sheepishly. “I just… I was thinking about the Rachel thing, the baby thing, and I started thinking about this baby picture from the wedding and how cute you were,” he says, pointing at the large printed picture of baby Patrick on the coffee table. “And most babies aren’t cute, you know my stance on babies, but I remember seeing this for the first time and thinking _fuck that’s a cute baby_ , because it was _you,_ it was a tiny version of my favourite person,” he sighs, still avoiding eye contact. “So I was thinking about the photo and then I thought maybe I was just remembering it cuter than it really was, like how I talked up those mall pretzels from that one mall in Elm Valley for so long and when we made the trip back they were _such_ a let down, so I got up to find it and I found all these albums your mum sent home with us last time we visited. _Look_. Look at your baby curls,” David groans, holding up the scrapbook in his hands for Patrick to see.

“This is all very sweet, honey, but it’s 3am. We can look at these in the morning,” Patrick offers carefully, still trying to decipher what exactly is happening here.

“Iwanttotalkaboutwhatthebabythingcouldlooklike,” David blurts in response, eyes screwed shut.

Patrick blinks.

“What?”

“I want to talk about what the baby thing could look like,” David tries again, slower this time.

“David, I didn’t bring it up because I secretly wanted to try to convince you to say yes. You don’t want kids; you’ve always been very clear about that. It’s not on the cards for us. I meant it when I told you I’m fine with that. If you don’t want kids, I don’t want kids. Okay? Come back to bed,” Patrick soothes, hand running up and down David’s back.

David sighs, deep and loud. 

“I - - I want to talk about what it could look like,” he repeats, holding eye contact with Patrick. 

“What the baby would look like?” Patrick questions, mind still grappling with what David is trying to communicate.

“ _No_. It would obviously be a gorgeous, genetically gifted child. I mean I want to talk about what that reality would realistically look like, if we decided it was something we wanted,” David corrects softly.

Patrick gasps, by accident. He didn’t mean to, it’s just that all the air was sucked in through his nose without his consent, and he’s currently incapable of letting it out. 

“You - - David, I’m not…you don’t have to..” he tries.

“ _I know I don’t have to,_ Patrick. I - - I might want to,” David groans, setting the scrapbook in his hands down beside him. “I don’t know yet. But I might. I might be open to entertaining the idea of there being a tiny Patrick in our lives some of the time, or like, all of the time? That’s what I need to know. What it would _look like._ How much it would change.”

Patrick blinks, again. He slowly lets the breath he’s been holding out.

“You’re serious?”

David’s eyes meet his, and they’re his serious eyes. The sincere ones. There’s also fear and love and hope there, too.

“You’re my favourite person in the entire world. Like, I love you so fucking much. And for some reason, the idea of a mini version of you makes me want to start crying? But not bad crying, Patrick, like… lovey, sentimental emotions type crying. Like it’s not even a thing that exists yet but I already love that baby so fucking much, and I - - that’s _terrifying._ I don’t know what to do with it. I’ve never - - I’ve _never_ wanted a kid, but _this…_ something about this arrangement…it’d have four parents, and we probably wouldn’t be the main ones responsible for it, but I could buy it clothes and show it how to properly care for its curls, and you could teach it how to play guitar and play the baseball and then we could just…give it back to Rachel and life maybe wouldn’t always be completely different?”

Patrick laughs. A full, hearty laugh, although his eyes have filled with tears listening to David speak. He’d always imagined himself having kids, but he was so fine not having them, too. He’d left the thought of children behind when he moved to Schitt’s Creek and met David and fell in love and found this perfect life, this perfect future. But hearing David describe this new possible future…Patrick found himself wanting it. He wanted it so much. He wanted it with David.

He pulls David into his arms, and holds him as tight as he can manage. “I love you so much, sweetheart. _Fuck_ , I love you so much,” he laughs into his neck.

“I can’t make any promises yet, but I… _fuck,_ I think you’ve broken me, Patrick. I really, really want to discuss what our lives might look like with a mini Patrick running around in a designated baby area that’s nowhere near my sweater collection.”

Patrick pulls away just enough to grab David’s face with both hands, grinning at the love his life before him.

“I know. I know. And just because we talk about it, doesn’t mean you can’t change your mind at any point, okay? I’m not going to lie, everything you just said? If you decide that’s what you want? It sounds like everything to me, honey. But even without a kid, you’re everything I need. This, what we have now, it’s everything, David. But Jesus, you would be such a great dad. And Rachel and Candace would be such good mums…this would be the luckiest kid on the planet. So if this is something you genuinely want to consider, we can talk it over some more, we can sit down with Rachel and Candace, talk about what it could look like,” Patrick offers, thumbs running up and down over David’s cheekbones.

“Okay. Yes. Let’s do that. If that’s - - if you want that, too,” David smiles, small and self-conscious, but so, so beautiful.

“I - - yes, David. Alright, let’s do it, then. Let’s talk about having a baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They would just be SUCH GOOD DADS OKAY. 
> 
> Let me know if you'd be interested in seeing more of this, I started to write the aforementioned convo with Rachel and Candace, but wasn't sure if there'd be much interest in a story like this. Drop a comment and let me know! 
> 
> Hope you're all staying safe and healthy and inside! 💕


	2. Baby Brewer Wallace-Green

The hospital room is barely recognisable as a hospital room, with throws and blankets scattered over every surface. Rachel’s inspirational quotes of choice hang from the otherwise plain white walls, hand-printed in David’s own calligraphy on the highest quality paper he could get his hands on. Candace’s carefully curated Push Playlist is still playing quietly through the Bluetooth speakers and Patrick’s printed-out colour-coded, sub-sectioned birth plan is scrunched into a ball on the floor.

The hospital bed is noticeably missing from the middle of the room, Rachel having been wheeled out for some extra tests due to a little too much bleeding during and after the birth. Candace had followed close behind, a nurse handing the baby off to Patrick after she’d been weighed and measured.

Patrick is tucked into the corner of the three-seater couch against the window, carefully cradling his newborn daughter in his arms, his husband quietly snapping pictures beside them.

She’s so tiny, Patrick can’t quite believe it. Nothing had gone to plan but everything is perfect as he stares at his daughter’s very distinctly Brewer face.

“Hi, sweetheart. Hi. Look at you, you’re finally here. I’m your dad, baby girl,” he coos softly. David puts the phone down and inches closer, pressing his chin against Patrick’s shoulder with a smile. “And this is David. He’s the other love of my life and your very special bonus dad,” Patrick explains.

David reaches out a single, unsure finger to trace over the baby’s cheek. “We’re not doing ‘dad’, Patrick. Don’t confuse her. Hello, tiny person. My name is David and you can call me David. I think we’re going to be friends. I’m your dad’s cool husband who will take you for ice cream and pizza and give you very experienced dating advice if you ever need it.”

Patrick couldn’t wipe the grin off his face if he tried. “Which she never will, because she will never date,” he corrects.

David scoffs, bringing a slightly more confident hand to the baby’s head and smoothing down her already very auburn hair.

“Don’t listen to your dad, he doesn’t mean that. He’s a hopeless romantic. Except that he just gave away my position as the love of his life, so maybe his game is slipping.”

For the first time since the nurse placed her in his arms, Patrick looks up from his daughter’s face to take in his husband next to him. “David, are you jealous?” he laughs.

David rolls his eyes, but takes the moment of Patrick’s attention to press a quick kiss to his forehead.

“No. No! I’m not. If I have to share the title I’m glad it’s with her. She has your entire face. I can’t stop looking at your face on her face. Are you seeing this?” he asks, his thumb tracing over her very Brewer button nose with glee.

Patrick places his own hand over the top of David’s where it rests on the baby’s head.

“You know you’ll always be my great love, no competition. She’s just - - god, David. I didn’t know it was possible to feel so much. It’s like I have a second heart outside my body,” he admits, sensing oncoming tears for the 100thtime that day.

He feels more than sees David nod next to him.

“I know, honey,” David soothes.

Patrick takes in a deep breath, willing away the millions of emotions hammering away in his chest, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“You do?” Patrick prompts.

“Mm,” David nods. “I don’t…I don’t exactly feel the second heart thing, but yeah. She’s…I kind of get it. Why people want to have them. What they say about…you know. All the things people say.” 

As if Patrick’s heart wasn’t full enough, David says something like that and Patrick is sure he must be glowing from the amount of joy bouncing around inside him right now.

“David, that sounds like a very ‘dad’ thing to say,” he teases.

David groans in response. “We’re not doing ‘dad’! She’s _literally_ your doppelganger, but redheaded. How could I not be completely in love with her? Patrick, look at her face!” David demanded, staring at the mini Patrick in his husband’s arms.

“God, David. I love her so much. I love _you_ so much,” Patrick laugh-sobbed, no longer able to keep the tears at bay. “Thank you for making this happen,” he whispers, leaning into David’s strong embrace.

“Thank you for making the world’s cutest baby so I don’t have to pretend like she’s cute when really she looks like an old man,” David says, his own smile pressed into the corner of his mouth.

Patrick barks out a surprised laugh. The baby stays fast asleep. “I know that was one of your fears, honey. She is pretty perfect, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. She is.”

* * *

A few hours later the room is back to its maximum capacity, all four parents quietly chattering away over the sleeping baby. Rachel successfully managed to breast feed her for the first time, so the baby is milk-drunk and out like a light against her mother’s chest. Candace gazes lovingly at the pair from her chair beside the bed, and David and Patrick essentially do the same from the couch. The room barely notices as a nurse walks in.

“And how is baby Brewer Wallace-Green doing?” she asks, reading over Rachel’s chart.

Both Candace and Patrick chorus, “she’s perfect,” at the same time. Everyone else in the room chuckles.

“Have we decided on a name?” the nurse asks, scribbling something down on the chart as she talks.

“Adeline Rose,” Rachel reveals, smiling down at her daughter in her arms.

“Oh,” David breathes, his eyes flying to Patrick’s, who looks equally as surprised. 

They knew Adeline was one of the top contenders, it had been approved by everyone who mattered, but Rachel wanted a few choices to pick from when she saw her face. They’d never discussed a middle name.

“I hope that’s okay, David,” Candace smiles. “I know you didn’t want to hyphenate your surname in, but none of this would have been possible without you. We wanted her to have your name, too.”

Patrick chokes back a sob beside him, grounding both David and himself by squeezing their hands together.

“And she is the rightful heiress to the Rose Apothecary throne, after all,” Rachel adds with a tired grin.

David nods slowly, it’s all he can really do. “No, it’s…it’s a beautiful name. I’m - - it’s an honour. Thank you.”

Patrick leans forward on the couch towards Adeline, still holding David’s hand in his own. “Hello, Adeline Rose Brewer Wallace-Green. Sorry about the mouthful, baby, but you’re so, so loved.”

The nurse scrubs off _‘Baby Brewer Wallace-Green’_ from the whiteboard on the wall and replaces it with _‘Adeline Rose’_.

She takes in the four love-struck faces in the room and smiles at the tiny baby at the centre of all that love. “Welcome to the world, Adeline,” she says. “You are one lucky little girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the love on the first chapter of this story. I haven't gotten around to responding, but I read and delighted in all of your lovely, encouraging words. 
> 
> This is such a fun story to explore, and I have a bunch of half-written scenes from different time-points, so I might update again if something works out. 
> 
> Sorry it's a short one, but I hope it gives you something to do for two minutes. Stay safe in there, people.


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